How a Dragon Falls in Love
by Call and Answer
Summary: Sherrinford is a solitary, brooding, magnificent dragon. His life consists of nothing but his thoughts and the pitiful creatures who fear him. Until one day, when the scent of blood in the wind crosses his path. Original work
1. A Worthy Opponent

In late spring, in a thick green forest surrounding a lake, in the centre of that very lake, an incredibly huge and powerful dragon was washing soot and rubble from his scales. The dragon was several shades of bright, dark, and deep red with yellowing spikes at his wings. His face was ever drawn in a tight scowl, the sharpness of his thick teeth almost always on display, even in the seclusion of his bath with no one near to directed his irritation.

He was incredibly beautiful. Humans and dragons alike could not help but gaze. It may have been the great span of his blood red wings, the power that rippled beneath his scales. He did not pay their adoration heed. For he knew all they would do was gaze from afar. He pitied the fool who found the courage to approach.

He began to rise from the lake and trek back to shore, water trailing behind him. As he made his way through the forest, small animals within a ten mile radius dashed to their burrows and birds took flight to put as much distance as possible between them and the bad tempered beast.

He soon found himself in an open meadow, with tall grass that bent weakly in the wind. The breeze brought a strong scent past his nose.

Blood.

It did not startled him, or provoke any worry. Death was not something that troubled a dragon who had never had cause to mourn. _But still_, he thought as he raised his nose to smell, _the fate of the pitiful creature may provide a slight distraction to my own dark mood._

So with a powerful pump of his wings, the dragon took air and followed the scent across the meadow. The scent in the wind began to grow unbearable, Till finally the source was spotted in dark patch at the very edge of the vast plain. The great beast landed and was taken aback by his discovery. It was another dragon, slightly smaller than himself, lying in blood drenched grass and breathing heavily.

The creature was too absorbed in its own pain to take notice to the newcomer, Which gave the great red dragon a chance to inspect more closely. The injured dragon was a cover with deep blue scales, that tinged gold about his neck and limbs. Although stunted in size, he noted, the smaller was not lacking in muscle or sharpness of claws. The red dragon wagered he would have been a worthy opponent in battle and pitied for a split second that his death was so near.

"Don't..." whimpered the blue dragon. The red dragon blink in surprise at the voice.

"I am startled you are capable of articulating considering the amount of blood you have decided to water the grass with. Tell me, do you plan to spend the last of your life's seconds in this field for some significant reason, or were you just too weak to dragged yourself more suitable?"

When he did not receive a reply, he settled on waiting patiently as the smaller one slowly struggled to shift his feet beneath his body to manage a sitting position. Once the upright position was accomplished, the red dragon was greeted with cause of excessive bleeding.

"My, my, that is quite a shame."

The blue dragons left wing had been completely torn off, save for a small stump that seemed to be the exit to an endless river of blood. He panted heavily, fixing the red dragon with his amber eyes, half craze with intensity.

The small dragon rose to his full height, not lifting his gaze from the red dragon for a second. The red dragon pondered with amusement how much effort the blue dragon had poured into the simple act of standing upright.

The red dragon began to stalk a circle around the interesting creature. "Why do you rise before me? Why do you look at me with such fire in your eyes? Do you believe I am a servant of death, come to collect your soul once it is useless in your dead body? Do you wish to challenge your fate while barely having the stamina to stand?"

The red dragon stopped once in front of his bleeding companion and turned to face him. His wing had not ceased bleeding, nor had his stance fell or eyes wavered. Then, after a great silence, the blue dragon began to speak.

"Don't...Don't think my injuries are great... For I assure you, my opponents were in far worse condition... And should you provoke me... I will not hesitate to inflict the same... To you.."

The red dragon's eyes blazed at the challenge. "You dare... In your condition...?"

He did not want to betray it, but he was impressed-More than impressed, _flattered_-at the show of strength by this creature. The red dragon was prone to dark moods and bad temper, simply from the lack of courage the people he encountered displayed. His days are filled with white knights fleeing from his flames, small critters sprinting at the scent of him, even adoring gazes at his beauty turning to one of fear. There was a small thrill in seeing such bravery, even in such a pitiful form.

The blue dragon saw the admiration in his eyes, and his once challenging visage became flustered.

The red dragon decided he had nothing better to do that day, and decided that patching up the strange dragon would be the best source of amusement.

"My name," said the red dragon finally. "Is Sherrinford. I believe I might be qualified to assist with that wound, for a price."

The blue dragon narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"I will need you name in exchange, unfortunately." He said finally, with no small amount of mirth.

An emotion unfamiliar to Sherrinford filled the small beasts amber eyes. "It... It is Vuloran..."

Once the sentence was complete, he promptly collapsed to the ground.


	2. Insult to Injury

Sherrinford pick up a fresh wad of moss with his teeth and held it against Vuloran's wound. The bleeding had slowed down considerably, and the smaller dragon, other than slight bouts of vertigo, had completely recovered from his fainting spell. Sherrinford had carried Vuloran's body back to the lake in the center of the great forest, where the water was clean and thick soft moss grew on almost every rock.

Vuloran was silent, his amber eyes focused on the water lapping on the shore before him, tension pulsing under his blue scales. Which suited Sherrinford just fine. He preferred silence to forced conversation, and it allowed his thoughts to drift to the clouds and the way they soared aimlessly throughout the sky and about the mountain tops, never tiring. For a split second he envied the way they passed the world by with nothing blocking their path.

His thoughts were scattered by a voice next to him.

"You did not need to save me."

Sherrinford turned to the small blue dragon."Hmm? No, I suppose I did not."

In a moment, Vuloran's composure broke and he became a vision of anger and twisted emotion. "Don't you get it? If I had died from my injuries, I would have died with honour_. _If I had died fighting you, I would have died with honour. By saving me, I will died old and crippled, and useless! I - You just- " He gave up and just simply roared at him, with all the strength he had, like a petulant child.

Sherrinford met his anger full on, and waited until his tantrum ceased to reply. "You should not throw away your life for something foolish like _honour_. You should not do foolish things, like challenge a dragon three times your size on the verge of death, simply to prove yourself to others." Sherrinford scowled in distaste. "I should have left you to bleed out and die. I should have never thought you any different from the others," With an irritated snort, Sherrinford drew himself up from the injured dragon's side, and began to lumber away from the lake shore. "I now see your bravery was simply stupidity in disguise"

Vuloran stared wide eyed at Sherrinford retreating form, and only when his great spiked tail disappeared into the forest did the injured beast snap out of his shock and chase after him.

Sherrinford did not react to Vuloran's reappearance beside him as he trekked forward.

"You thought I was different? Why? What made you save me?"

Vuloran panted out his words, the effort of keeping up with Sherrinford taking about all the strength he had. For a moment Sherrinford almost seemed embarrassed, and hid it clumsily by telling the blue insect if he would not leave him be, he would take Vuloran's tail and cram it down his throat as far as it could go.

Vuloran paid his threat no heed and continued to follow. Sherrinford increase his speed, leaving Vuloran sputtering to keep up.

"Tell me why you saved me!" Was all he could manage, the blood loss causing him to tire quickly.

Sherrinford growled and suddenly charged forward through the trees. Vuloran watch him speed on ahead with dread, knowing he could possibly keep up in his weak state. He considered simply letting it go, but his words burned in his mind-

_I should have never thought you any different from the others _

So instead of slowing, Vuloran took a deep breath and charged forward after the great red dragon. Sherrinford was long from his site, but he continued to charge, until his legs, the stump where his wing was, his very breath screamed with agony. He ran until every inch of him burned with exhaustion. He ran with all his rage and pain, with every emotion that course through him the moment he felt his wing torn mercilessly from his body. Through the pain he knew if he slowed down, he might as well rip off his remaining limbs.

"_I said STOP you fool!_"

Vuloran's mind leaped from its trance, and suddenly he was falling forward through the underbrush. He skidded and rolled through trees and bush for what seemed like a mile, until a great form collapsed into him, stopping him completely.

Once still, Vuloran sucked in air as if he had been submerged in water for days. Each breath set his lungs on fire and for what seemed like ages, all he could process was the fierce roar of his heart and the sting of scales torn off in his fall. Once he could control his gasps for air, he became very much aware of the form that had crashed into him and rolled him to a stop.

Sherrinford's front claws were dug into Vuloran's middle from behind. He slowly released the smaller blue dragon and heaved himself to his feet and plant himself before Vuloran, meeting his tired eyes with a stormy blue glare.

"I will tell you only this, I did not save you just for you to run yourself into a heart attack."

"...trying to... to keep up-"

"You passed me within _seconds._"

Vuloran stared in shock, not remembering seeing Sherrinford during his sprint. Sherrinford stared at him with something akin to wonder, an unusual emotion for such a constantly scowling face. Then suddenly, his face was stone once more, and the great beast turned and began to walk away.

Vuloran panicked through his exhausted haze. "Wait- Where are you g-"

Sherrinford turned his head slightly to cast Vuloran a bemused look. "I'm going to get you food. And water. Try not to die while I'm gone."


	3. A Crack in the Stone

Dragons were solitary creatures. They guarded mountains and swept over valleys and slept in abandoned castles. They rarely spoke to others, and when they did their conversation consisted of riddles and threats, not small talk or pleasantries.

That is why, once Sherrinford had returned with a large horse clamped between his jaws to feed the injured Vuloran, a suffocating awkward silence gripped them like iron bars. Vuloran tore through the horses flesh with a vengeance, and Sherrinford stared intently, thoroughly lost in what to do in his newfound situation. Nursing a dragon to health? Has his time really become this expendable? What will other dragons think of him upon sight of this scenario?

Vuloran finished and tried to stand, but found his entire world tilting on a spiralling axis, and promptly fell on his side.

Sherrinford was there in an instant, shoving the carcass into a thicket and bringing himself to the smaller dragon's side, the red dragon's sharp features crinkled and drawn taunt into a scowl. Vuloran gave him an odd look, then curled into himself, using his remaining wing as a barrier.

"Why must you consistently try to hurt yourself?" Sherrinford hissed, hating how much he sounded like a mother scolding a child. Vuloran only curled tighter and Sherrinford found himself growling in warning, not allowing his question to be ignored.

Suddenly, a strange sound came from the bundle of blue scales and Sherrinford froze in his place, becoming perfect stone for at least a minute.

Dragons did not _cry._ It simply wasn't done. So full of pride and arrogance, to cry would reduce them to nothing if done publically. It was weak and ugly and disgustingly human. Sherrinford knew he should think that way now, except found he felt no disrespect or distaste for the creature snivelling before him. He only felt the need to perhaps curl up close to the fellow beast and gather him close with his wing, like another dragon had done to him when he was but a babe, eons ago.

Vuloran curled even tighter into himself and let a shudder run through him. "To try to function without my wing," he rasped out. "It's like losing a part of my soul or my mind." Another sob came from the bundle.

Sherrinford broke free from his solid state. Instead of curling around him and shielding him like a child, he nudged and shoved Vuloran up until his wingless side was propped up against him and he was fully balanced.

"You need rest. I have a cavern nearby." Sherrinford stated as softly as he could. Vuloran grunted in agreement and moved forward slowly with the large red fire breather.

Travelling to his small cavern took longer than usually, on account of the slow pace. Once reached it was well into night, and upon entry, Vuloran collapsed into a nearby pile of thick pelts and furs. Sherrinford panicked for a moment, but then relaxed when it appeared the blue dragon had merely fallen asleep. For a moment he felt compelled to sleep outside, but found the furs next to Vuloran looked from more inviting.

So he set himself down there, planning on giving an appropriate amount of space between him and the other dragon. But, as soon as he had settled in, the blue bundle next to him rolled over and fitted himself snuggly against his side. Sherrinford opened his mouth to protest, but the sneaky beast had already fallen deep into sleep; a sleep that he desperately needed, Sherrinford reminded himself. So he allowed himself to grow comfortable with the warm body next to his and, eventually, let his head fall and his eyes slip.


End file.
